Gallons of ink and a like quantity of electrodes were expended commenting
on Rush Limbaugh's disclosure that he was addicted to painkillers and going
into rehab for 30 days. With all the braying about "hypocrisy" in
the ensuing weeks, you would get the impression that Rush is despised by
his critics.

Yet it isn't just the bombastic radio talk show host they loathe. To be
sure, Limbaugh emerged as one of Bill Clinton's most effective critics – perhaps
the most effective – in the 1990s and remains the bane of liberals
everywhere. Plenty of talk radio's voices have little reach beyond the studios
they fulminate in, but when Rush makes a statement even Democratic congressional
leaders often feel the need to respond.

But many anti-Limbaugh jeremiads are not aimed solely at Rush; indeed, they
drip with contempt for his roughly 20 million listeners. Ever since he burst
onto the national scene, liberals and elitists of every stripe have spoken
derisively about the "dittoheads" that form his adoring audience,
casting them as deluded masses that have been deceived into supporting a
nefarious right-wing political agenda. Limbaugh himself has picked up on
this, with his famous quips referring to his listeners as "mind-numbed
robots."

Of course, much of the mainstream press would have you believe that his
fans aren't in on the joke. In Newsweek, Evan Thomas likened Limbaugh not
just to Elmer Gantry but also the "Wizard of Oz," implying that
he had his audience fooled into believing he is something that he is not: "The
man behind the curtain is not the God of Family Values but a childless, twice-divorced,
thrice-married schlub whose idea of a good time is to lie on his couch and
watch football endlessly."

As harsh as this may be toward Limbaugh, at least he is given a certain
amount of backhanded credit for being able to pull off this act. What can
be said for the listeners dumb enough to believe it? Thomas helpfully explained, "When
Rush Limbaugh declared to his audience that he was ‘your epitome of
morality and virtue, a man you could totally trust with your wife, your daughter
and even your son in a Motel 6 over night,' he was acting." The average
Limbaugh listener would have to choke back the impulse to say "no s—t." But
Thomas (in what was incidentally a straight news story to which Eleanor Clift
contributed, not an opinion piece) proclaims in the penultimate sentence, "Limbaugh's
long-running act as a paragon of virtue is over."

It isn't enough to write a story about a famous but flawed man struggling
with weaknesses even his closest friends didn't know he had. The underlying
tone is that this also is a reflection on his audience, whose alleged naiveté has
now been exposed for the entire world to see just as much as Limbaugh's prescription
drug abuse. Rush might describe what they are getting at this way: "You
fools! You believed in him and now we know that he is a druggie! Not only
should you rethink your support for this man and his hate-filled intolerant
message, but you should also admit your poor political judgment. It is time
for you to reevaluate your politics, your values and every opinion you have
that you formed in agreement with Rush, because his hypocrisy has refuted
it all!"

The reality is that it has always been clear that large parts of Limbaugh's
persona were an act and that his lines about being the "epitome of morality
and virtue" with "talent on loan from God" were tongue-and-cheek.
More importantly, the overwhelming majority of his listeners knew it. While
a champion of God and country, Limbaugh never pretended he was not a sinner.
Many of his conservative Christian fans – and critics – have
always faulted him for being too secular, too inside-the-Beltway and insufficiently
moralistic in his outlook.

While personalities like Limbaugh always attract uncritical admirers and
sycophants, the bulk of his audience isn't comprised of people whose views
were formed by what they hear on talk radio. On the contrary, Rush struck
a cord with so many millions because they liked hearing somebody say things
they already agreed with, things they weren't hearing anybody else in the
broadcast world say. Although rivals and copycats have since arrived, Rush
has won listeners' loyalty because for most of them he was the first and
also because he has established the strongest brand name over time.

It's as simple as that. People who were tired of hearing their beliefs ridiculed,
their values torn down and their opinions marginalized found Limbaugh to
be a breath of fresh air. He was willing to speak up in agreement with Americans
whose opinions weren't well represented in newsrooms, university classrooms
or popular culture. Unlike his program, none of these other forums came clearly
marked as purveyors of opinion. Consider that one of his biggest critics,
Al Franken of Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot fame, did not come from the
pages of some obscure leftist periodical. He was a writer for the mainstream
comedy hit "Saturday Night Live."

It's especially important to remember that Rush really became a household
name at the onset of the Clinton years. This was a time when it seemed as
if everyone had forgotten about the accomplishments of Ronald Reagan, the
Democratic Party looked not just resurgent but ascendant and Clinton was
being received as the political equivalent of a rock star. Millions of people
in red-state America did not agree with this new conventional wisdom and
yearned for a spokesman to challenge it and communicate their views.

When Limbaugh rose to the challenge, many liberals responded with anger
at the spokesman and fear of the people being spoken for. They treated ordinary
conservative Americans as a malevolent force whipped into a violent frenzy
by demagogic leaders, a collection of rednecks, bumpkins and militia members
congregated together in fly-over country. This view was reflected when the
media described the religious right as "poor, uneducated and easy to
command" and tried to reduce the 1994 election results that gave Republicans
control of both houses of Congress to a temper tantrum by "angry white
males."

Rush isn't perfect. He can be simplistic, excessively partisan and sometimes
wrong. I agree with those who hope that this episode prompts him to rethink
the notion that the government can stamp out drug use at gunpoint by putting
people with personal problems in jail. But his shortcomings don't diminish
his talents as a performer and communicator.

It's obvious that a lot of Rush's critics just don't get him. They take
his shtick a lot more seriously than most of the dittoheads do. But it is
more disturbing how little they understand that vast section of America that
votes Republican, believes in traditional values and prefers free enterprise
to big government. You have to wonder how some of these elites can speak
out in the name of "working families" and yet find so many of them
so alien.

Why
Rush Limbaugh's big mouth mattered by Kimberley Lindsay Wilson (October
6, 2003)
Whether Limbaugh was right about Donovan McNabb's high profile being as
a result of his race, argues Kimberley Lindsay Wilson, he was wrong about
some other things

Limbaugh's secret life by Carol Devine-Molin
(October 6, 2003)
Rush Limbaugh is a man who refuses to wear jeans because he doesn't want to look
like a hippy. Who knew before last week that he was also a drug addict? Carol
Devine-Molin feels for the man